


No Matter Where I Sleep, You Are Haunting Me

by corda_cariora



Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: Dreaming, Episode: s02e03, F/M, Porn with some plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-18
Updated: 2014-10-18
Packaged: 2018-02-21 15:27:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2473190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corda_cariora/pseuds/corda_cariora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elizabeth Keen has a dream about Red. Then another one. Things get out of hand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Matter Where I Sleep, You Are Haunting Me

**Author's Note:**

> So I wanted to write something for Blacklist for a while but this, this is not what I wanted at all. I wrote this in 4 hours at really odd time of night with work early in the morning, and I have no idea what happened.
> 
> Title from Silhouettes by Monsters and Men

First time she had that dream, she woke up right when Red kicked the door. She then spent several minutes contemplating why she had that dream. Then she scolded herself for using outdated Freudian psychology on a dream that was probably a result of thinking too much about her ex-husband and spending too much time around Red.

Second time she had that dream, Red started shooting her ex-husband. When she woke up, she was pretty much confused as to why she would possibly dream about Red killing her ex-husband. She couldn't remember what her ex-husband was talking about when Red shot him repeatedly in the chest. All she did remember was Red killing her ex-husband, and her ex-husband was dead when she woke up, so no more ex-husband, courtesy of Red. Now that was wishful thinking. She did, however, spend a lot of time thinking about that. Her subconscious apparently loved the idea of a guilt free murder of her ex-husband. She herself couldn't decide if she even remotely accepted that idea. She fell into a vicious cycle that involved her trying to forget about that idea which made her think about it more and more.

The third time she had that dream, Red came too close to her after he shot her ex-husband repeatedly in the chest. And he kept asking her something, and he had a peculiar look in his eyes and she distinctly remembered being slightly out of breath. When she woke up, god she was annoyed. She could understand two times, but three times, and getting more detailed? Something was up. She needed to either stay away from Red or put her ex-husband out of her mind. This was getting out of control. She never remembered having recurring dreams like this.

The fourth time she had that dream, when she woke up she remembered what they were saying. Her ex-husband was accusing Red of  withholding information (what a surprise) and Red looked like his usual confident self making her question herself. She remembered enough to decipher that looked in his eyes: ruthlessness, curiosity, and fondness? There was just a hint of a smile on his lips. And there was also her ex-husbands dead bleeding body behind him and she was out of breath and she did not have much clothes on and he was so close…. She had no idea what to do. It's not like she could turn her mind off. She couldn't just not have dreams. She didn't want to drink or take sleeping aids to avoid dreaming because that just makes her feel silly. She's a mature person, she could handle an odd dream involving people close to her. That's fine, she can deal with this, really, no problem. At least it wasn't a sex dream, because having sex dreams about people you are not actually sleeping with is pretty awkward.

The fifth time she had that dream, after shooting her ex-husband repeatedly in the chest and walking too close to her not-so-clothed-body, Red slowly raised his hand and lightly put it on her knee. "What do you really want?" he kept saying, lightly drawing circles on her knee. Lights started flickering, and she closed her eyes and his hand went lower, until she felt his cool fingers wrap around her ankle. Then he moved his hand up, and cool fingers were now on her thigh, just under the hem of her gray shirt. When she woke up, she felt sick. It was like waking up from a dream that felt too much like reality. Why in the hell would she have a dream like that? Jesus Christ, what in the hell is her subconscious doing in spare time? She couldn't focus for half a day. She even avoided Red for several days – and thank god that there were no cases that even remotely required his input.

The sixth time she had that dream, Red put his hand on her knee and it started sliding up her leg, stopping just under the hem of her shirt. "What do you really want?" he asked. She sat up, and scooted closer. Then she pulled her shirt off. It was cold in the room, she shivered, but not completely because of the cold. Red's fingers were between her legs now, pressing too gently at just the right spot. And even over the thin layer of her panties, it felt exhilarating. She opened her legs and looked Red in the eye, challenging him to keep going. He did, he kept going steadily, without stopping for even a second, with a faint satisfied smile on his lips. She gasped and fell back on her elbows and then…she woke up. She stared at the ceiling, entirely unsure of what was happening to her. She had dreams like this before, but this one felt too real, again. She reached to touch herself and found that yes, she was in fact very much aroused. Her face was burning and she felt hot and embarrassed and nervous. They were working a case together, and she had to look Red in the eye and attempt to pretend that this didn't happen. That it was all just a dream. It didn't mean anything.  

She went to work intending to look menacing and unapproachable, because she did not want to talk to anybody until she completely forgot about how good that dream felt. And until she could accept how good that dream felt. And because the entire universe was against her today, there he was, the first thing she saw when she arrived. Though when she walked in, Red turned to look at her and he smiled. She took a deep breath in and bit the inside of her cheek. She tried to think of everything she could about the case they were working on, just so her face could be unreadable.

But when she came closer to Red, his eyes narrowed and the bastard smirked. He looked intrigued. "You seem nervous, Lizzie. Did you have a bad dream?"

How in the hell could he guess that? Was her body language and facial expression that obvious? Is there anything she could ever hide from him? She used to be good at this. Yep, this was definitely not her best day. "Something like that," she said and smiled, hoping that her new facial expression would tell him to back the hell away. She felt his eyes on her whenever they were in the room together – though that happens every time they are in the room together. It's just, right now, she'd very much prefer not to have that.

At the end of the day, she left as fast as she could without drawing too much attention to herself. She slipped away from Red too, hoping that he would not decide to show up invited before she could figure out her feelings about that goddamn dream.

She took a shower, brushed her teeth and went to bed. When she couldn't fall asleep (she kept thinking about having a dream like that again, and how much she wouldn't mind that, really) she dug around her bags and found a book to read. She couldn't focus on the book too. This was not working. So she gave up. She turned the lights off, found a comfortable position on the bed and started touching herself.

And then there was a knock on the door. She tried to ignore it, until she clearly heard Red saying that he knew she was in there and wondering if she was conscious. Lizzie cursed under her breath, called out to him to wait a minute. She ran to the bathroom to wash her hands, scrambled to get something decent on and opened the door.

Her motel room was small, not really intended for guests. Red sat down on a dusty couch across from the bed (which she did not have time to make). She sat down on the bed and all of this seemed too much like her dream. Her heart was beating fast, and she could swear that he could hear it.

"What are you doing here? I was about to fall asleep. This better be important."

"I'm just worried about you Lizzie. You've been so distant lately."

"I have a lot of things on my mind."

"Still looking for your husband, I see." He looked around the room, at all the papers and pictures taped to the walls.

"Ex-husband."

"Yes, of course, my apologies."

Then he stood up and stepped closer. No, no, no, this is too much, this is a dream. Yes, this is a dream. She bit the inside of her cheek, and it hurt and bled and it wasn't a dream. She felt herself blushing and started feeling dizzy and hot. At this moment, she did not care about why he was here, she did not care about anything, all she knew is that she wanted him, she always did, and she might as well stop denying it. The hard part was admitting it to Red and hoping that this won't end badly for everybody.

But she really wanted to see how surprise looked like on Red's face. So she closed her eyes, took a few calming breaths and with one swift movement, she took her shirt off. And there it was – surprise, followed by undeniable delight. "Lizzie…" He said with this oddly husky warning tone. She leaned back on her hands and grinned. "Well?"

She could practically see his brain working, evaluating, wondering, and she didn't want that, she wanted him now. "Just stop the thinking and get to it already," she said, "pretty please?"

"Well, now that you asked nicely…" He trailed off. Red took his hat and jacket off. And then his hand was on her knee. She shivered and closed her eyes and opened her legs. She was breathing through her mouth now. Holding herself up became challenging as her arms weakened – and he hasn't even done anything yet.

And of course he had to comment on that: "I didn't think you'd be so sensitive," hand gently moving up the inside her thigh, and its coldness felt so good on her hot skin. "I did have a dream. It wasn't bad," she said, breathless.

"How interesting!" His hand was gone. He stepped back and leaned against the wall and that made Lizzie very upset. "Why don't you tell me about it."

"Red, please, don't go off on a tangent." She really hoped that she did not sound as needy and she thought. "Please, just do something."

"Take those shorts off." She did, faster than she thought she could. She wasn't even embarrassed by the fact that she didn't have time to put on panties. Now she was completely naked, while he was wearing that damn suit and he looked completely unfazed.

She leaned on her elbows and stared at him expectantly. "Please, Red."

His hand returned right where she wanted it. She closed her eyes and saw stars. She couldn't recall having an orgasm so quickly. She faintly heard Red asking her to lie down. She did, and then she felt something hot on her clit. She opened her eyes and saw Red's head between her legs. She grabbed the headboard with her hands, humming quietly with pleasure.

He raked his nails lightly over her stomach, her ribs, her breasts, setting her nerves alight. It took all her effort to stop herself from screaming – the walls were thin and she didn't want anyone interrupting this. Because this was quite possible the best mouth to ever taste her and there was no way she was going to stop it. Soon enough the world around her became fuzzy and she was lost in this blissful feeling.

Then she opened her eyes and found herself tucked under the covers, with a shirt on. Was that another goddamn dream? She couldn't handle that. That would not be fair. That was just rude. She jumped when she heard water running in the bathroom – okay, so maybe it wasn't a dream. Wait, but then when exactly did she pass out?

"Good morning, Lizzie." Okay, it was Red. But it all still could have been a dream.

"What happened?" She asked, not entirely sure what to do with herself.

"You passed out after your seventh orgasm. I hoped you'd last longer."

"Wow, I – " She was stunned by bluntness. "At least it wasn't a dream… Wait did you just say that you hoped I'd last longer?"

"Did you sleep well?" He looked so satisfied with himself.

Lizzie didn't answer. Instead, she got really close to him, breathed on his face inches away from his lips. He was still smirking, like he was expecting this.

"How long did you want to do this?" she whispered against his lips, slowly undoing that pesky vest of his, then moving on to the belt.  He didn't say anything, just tilted his head to look down at her impatiently.

"Let's see how long you will last," she said suddenly and got down on her knees.

Yes, definitely not a dream.


End file.
